


somefin sclamdalous, somefin pale

by song_of_staying



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Sgrub Session, Consent Issues, Drama & Romance, Droit du Seigneur, Empress Feferi Peixes, F/M, Future Fic, Hemospectrum, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Troll Anatomy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-13 11:11:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11758608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/song_of_staying/pseuds/song_of_staying
Summary: Her Imperial Graciousness chooses a newlywed couple to serve her in her chambers.





	1. Chapter 1

In this matter, Her Imperial Graciousness had to respect tradition, so Feferi put aside her private feelings about wavecrashing her subjects' quadrant-binding ceraymonies. The kindest thing to do was to get through this morning as quickly as possible.

All the newlyweds were lined up for her finspection, and they’d been grouped by quadrant. They were terrified. Worse, they were embarrassed. None of them were higher than teal, none of them had ever been this close to royalty. They never had a chance to develop immunity to all the bullsharkshit that defined her days now! They had barely been given any warning – the Empress rolling in unannounced was part of the tradition too. Only a fraction of this ceraymony ever made it to the Imperial streams, so they couldn’t know what to expect.

Feferi looked them over, and her royal entunage oozed suggestions in her ear. She pretended to take it all into codsideration, but only paid enough attention to make shore not to accept any piece of sleazy of advice by acctrident. It would not do, to let them think they could dictate her taste.

Her attention wandered to a pair of moirayls. They weren't holding hands, or showing any other touching display of pale devotion, and they weren’t lattorally frozen stiff, like the bronzeblood in the back. They only stood out because they were arguing, in complete silence, using nothing but eyebrows and jaw twitches. She approached them briskly, and the one with double horns shoved his moirayl back, and stepped in front of him, looking all rough and desperate and improper. He raised his chin. He spread his elbows, as though that would hide the moirayl from view.

Feferi wasn't a romantic or anyfin, but she wasn't made of marble. That was a public declaration of protectiveness, and it was _reely_ hot. At the same time, it was hard not to resent him it: she was the threat he was facing with such defiance.

“Protocoral forbids sunglasses in my presence,” she said, and oh, it was really not a good idea to let that resentment show. He flinched from her, a little. He muttered his apoloachies, and looked at her with beautiful, mismatched eyes. His horns barely reached her chin, though he was still taller than his beloved. The beloved was silent behind him, obviously furious but not stupid enough to show it.

She could have either of them. She could have both.

“Take these two to my chambers,” she pronounced, and picked up the shades he had dropped, put them back on his nose. “They will both serve me tonight.”

* * *

The first thing Sollux did was to fry all the recording devices in the Empress’s respite chamber. Whoops, psionics, so unpredictable, what can you do. The second thing he did was to cover Karkat in pillows, from ankles to chin. He took off his moirail’s socks, and only got growled at a little in return. Bare feet: prime pale eyecandy.

Then he sat down on the edge of the respite platform, and took off his Troll Converse. He decided to keep the socks on, because his toe claws weren’t dainty and shiny like Karkat’s. He crossed his legs, uncrossed them. He wished he had dressed up more. He could have at least worn something with buttons.

The plan was pretty straightforward: first seduce the Grace with his own incredible concupiscent magnetism, then let Karkat pap her into pale bliss. Go home unharmed in the evening. A key point in this plan was that Karkat had to stay meek, pitiful and silently attentive.

Ehehehe, they were going to die.

“A key point in this revolting but ultimately unsurprising clusterfuck,” said Karkat, “is that you act convincingly surprised.”

“We both saw the murals, KK. Nothing about her bulge is going to be a surprise.”

“No, and fuck you for saying that, but, no, I mean once my mutated body fluids emerge and stain her sheets and she kills me for sullying her presence, it will be your job to be the most surprised dipshit in the galaxy.”

“We’re moirails, she’s not going to believe I didn’t know you’re not really rust.”

“Sure she’ll believe it. Just play it like in that idiotic bilgewater shitpile, In Which A Duplicitous Mutant Nearly Tricks A Courageous Greenblood Into Her Red Quadrant blah blah.”

“You love that movie.”

“That movie is garbage that owns up to its garbage nature, and I respect that. The point is, that is the role you will play in this sordid little drama, assface. You’re cute and you’re very dim. You never thought your moirail was a mutant, you’re feeling incredibly upset about this reveal, but you’re also horny and generally caliginous, whatever she seems to be into at the moment. Got it?”

Sollux got it. Sollux got that if it came to bloodshed, he’d be flinging himself in front of the Imperial trident for this asshole.

“Sure, whatever,” he said. “But the first plan is that you keep all of your precious red liquids on the inside, and I seduce her into liking us.” He grinned. “I think she already liked me. She kind of smiled.”

Karkat opened his mouth, no doubt to explain why Sollux had misunderstood the romantic dynamics of the situation, but the door creaked.

Sollux straightened his spine; behind him, Karkat inhaled sharply.

“I appre-sea-ate your patience,” the Grace said. “I hope you’ve been making yourself comfortbubble.”

* * *

Feferi waited for a moment, and Sollux Captor ( _14 sweeps, mustard, system administraducer_ ) bowed to her. It was a deep bow, unpracticed but immediate, and she liked it. Karkat Vantas ( _14 sweeps, rust, unemployed_ ) copied him, curled up on her bed, like some improbubble diamond pin-up.

Feferi wasn’t nervous, of course, but she didn’t know what to expect from them, apart from obedience. In some, terror fuelled a flushed passion, in others, timid black resentment. Would these two try to keep track of every tiny shift in her mood, like some one-sided pale thing? Would they keep a focus on each other, locking her out? She hadn’t done this for two sweeps now, and had never done it with two trolls at once, or with anyone below viridian.

She knew that she could make this easier for them. She was almost shore she wanted to.

“I would like some help undressing,” she said, “from either of you.”

Sollux Captor grinned at her, a flash of bright tiny fangs. She liked that too.

He stepped up to her, chin lifted high, and he didn’t flinch when she put her hands on his shoalders. They were bony, and taut, and she squeezed them as carefully as she knew. It wasn’t meant as a threat, and she didn’t think it was taken as one.

Her formal gown was more gold than fuchsia, and she wondered, breefly, whether Sollux Captor’s color matched her ceremonial gold. It was so hard to tell, with those eyes of his. She could look at his file later.

“Where are your shades? Do you need them?” she asked. It was a little finsipid, but not a bad step toward pale rapport.

“I have them here, Your Grace,” said Karkat Vantas. His voice was hoarse, but steady enough. “I’m keeping them safe for him, just like always.”

That was a brazen _leap_ pale-wards and Feferi could feel blood rise to her cheeks.

“We bought new glasses for the ceremony,” Sollux Captor told her. “Usually I have a red-and-blue pair, but Karkat thought this was nicer? I didn’t know it was rude to keep wearing them. I’m sorry.”

“That’s all right,” Feferi said, and got that smile from him again. What did Sollux Captor want from her? And in what way did he want her?

He unwrapped her shoulders, fingers brushing across her collarbones, like it was no great thing at all. She heard a faint hissing in the way he breathed, and she enjoyed the warmth of his exhalations. He was nervous, but not about touching her, so she touched him back.

His hair was clean and land-dweller dry. She wrapped a strand around her finger, just to check what he would do. He didn’t pull away, just waited. She was fairly shore she didn’t want this one black. She let go without hurting him at all.

She was still far from naked, but her shoalders were bare. He appeared to be transfished by them, and he reached toward the muscles of her upper arm, his long fingers curved, beautiful, but he slowed down - a sudden shyness? She resisted the urge to look in a mirror, and maybe flex her arms a little. That would be unsea-mly.

“Is that an anchor tattoo, Your Grace?” he asked, and she, oh, her blush came back in a wave.

“My moirayl thought it was ironic,” she muttered.

Sollux Captor grinned, looking delighted. Feferi didn’t _actually_ have anyfin to be embarrassed aboat!. It was just - a little childish, having an anchor on her arm like some sailor.

(Her moirayl had laughed, and Feferi had laughed, and the tattoo artist had laughed too, once she’d stopped expecting to be stabbed for the slightest mistake.)

“It’s romantic,” Karkat Vantas said, and his voice was heseatant. “Sailors used to - they couldn’t wear quadrant rings, because those would get caught in the ropes and stuff, so they had tattoos done in honour of their quadrantmates. Matching tattoos, usually - anchors for moirails, sails for kismeses. Knots were for matesprits, which is disgusting if you think about it, um. Anyway. I think it was just clovers for the ashen quadrant, but quadrant-binding there is rare anyway.”

Feferi hummed agreement. Sollux Captor was tracing her anchor with ripple-light fingertips. It was an awkward angler, since she wasn’t bending down at all, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Did you see that in a movie, KK?” he asked, gaze still fixed somewhere on Feferi’s collarbones. Or her neck?

“Fuck y - no, sweet Sollux. Honeybabe. I heard it first-hand when I was working in that sh - shoddy bar.”

“Oh yeah.” Sollux leaned closer to her, and she did bend down a little. “Karkat used to be a tavern wench,” he murmured.

She giggled, and then giggled again. They’d been so scared, so awkward, she never expected them to be so _frondly_. She didn’t care about whether it was reel or not! How could it be, if they were still terrified? But it didn’t matter! It didn’t matter, end of story.

She crouched down, and it was too abrupt, because Sollux stepped back just a little. “Your Grace?” he asked, so careful.

“Sorry,” she said, which was in itself against protocoral, but her seacurity, if they heard this, would have to shark it up and _deal_. “I just thought I could return the favor.”

She reached for the hem of his shirt, and he stepped closer, lifting his arms. So cooperative. And bendy.

“I like your Sign,” she said. “I like the seammetry.”

“Yeah? I - thank you, Your Grace.” He bent his head, and let her pull the shirt off. She didn’t think it caught in his ears, and it slid over his horns easily. “I like it too, and your Sign - “ he stopped, probubbly realizing he was about to give his opinion on Imperial insignia. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“Thank you, too,” she said, _why did she feel so clamsy, ugh_. “I’ll just fold this.”

She folded his shirt, put it on a dresser, taking her time with it. He was much more naked than she was now. Warmbloods wore much fewer layers! She kind of wanted to cover him up with silks, but it wasn’t - it would just be pretty, okay.

When she turned back, he had knelt down.

“Oh,” she said.

“I could help take off your strut pod-enveloping strap installations, Your Grace.”

“Oh! Sandals. Is what we call them.”

“Sandals,” he repeated doubtfully.

“Because the ogre hide gets sanded down first? But I think that’s unethical, so mine are just regular seaweed, except it’s boiled in living oyster juice, which is probably cruel to the oysters, but - “

He put his hands on her left calf, and squeezed a little, and Feferi took a deep breath.

“You may proceed with that,” she said. “I’ll make things easier, and just get rid of this.”

She tore away the velvet wrapped expertly around her hips. She was left with a glittering underdress, covering her to the knee. It wasn’t codpletely opaque.

“Sandals,” Sollux said, and his lisp was more pronounced. “That, I’ll just proceed with that.”

It was clear as water that Sollux had little ex-spear-ience in giving this kind of service. She wondered what he would have done if she had worn her land-treading boots, the ones that beached up to her knees and were always caked in mud. Would he offer to clean them first? Would he handle them with the same kind of dedication, unbothered by the dirt? Everything here was clean marble, fit for a royal.

(She wondered how long it had been since Sollux had knelt for anyone. She wondered if he ever knelt for his Karkat.)

He unlaced and unbuckled her, then pressed a kiss to each knee just as readily. Her left foot was still in his lap, and it was good that Feferi’s sense of balance was so well-tunad, because it would have felt so silly to topple back now. She would have had nothing to hold unto but his hair -

She touched his hair again, explored his adorable twin horns. He let her, of course he did, but he turned his head slowly and kissed the base of her palm. It was sweet, and maybe it was a hint he wanted her to stop - she was unshore, and she hated being unshore about this, so she curled her fingers away from his face. He chased after them, leaving small kisses on her knuckles, and then he caught two of her claws with his mouth. Her own moirayl had spent an hour fixing invisibubble flaws on her nails, alternating between gold and purple polfish. Now she felt Sollux scrape a fang over the surface, and she hope he would leave a mark on them.

“Get up,” she said, and it slipped out too sharp, like a reprimandible. He squared his shoalders and fixed his gaze on her ankles.

“Sollux,” she said, helpless. “Reelax. You’re doing well.”

“Yeah?” he said, and didn’t rise yet.

“Yeah.” She bent a little more, trailed a claw across his thin lips, not scratching or pushing. She thought she caught a half smile before he opened his mouth. Her fingers slipped in easily.

She hooked him. He let himself be hooked.


	2. Chapter 2

He had tiny little fangs and an agile tongue, and his arms were warm around her neck. She kissed him deeply, and didn’t know where to put her hands. She ruffled his hair, and then felt that that came across as way too glubbing pale. To carpensate, she dragged her nails down his back, and up - not caliginuous, just teasing - and then down far enough to cup his ass. Her legs were spread, to balance out the difference between their heights, and her touch on him was light and supporting -

“Wait,” she said, “are you levitating?”

He landed softly. “Sorry.”

“Pseaonics are banned in my presence. For a _very_ good reason.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, more urgently. “They told us, no weapons, no powers, I just - I shouldn’t have forgotten.”

“No,” she agreed, and put both hands on his shoalders, like she thought he’d fly off again. He put his arms behind his back.

His kiss was slow and soft and timid this time. She bent down to him, and held on to the back of his neck.

He was too still, too limp. She wanted him to forget himself again, just without going against the important rules. Of course she trusted him not to do anyfin to hurt her! But an Empress had a responseability to stay safe. Even if she was certainly stronger and faster than him, even if she wanted to know how high he could rise...

He wasn’t even moving, so she stopped the kiss, and she knew that he felt her dissandppointment. He shook himself, and let his arms fall to the front. He was _trying_. She took one of his hands, brought it to her lips. It was irregullar, this way around, but maybe he desurfed small kisses before she moved on to big ones. She kissed his soft palm, and then his wrist. Maybe it would lighten the mood! She trailed her lips along his inner arm, tasting the warmth of his skin.

Twice in succession, she kissed the crook of his elbow, and then a tiny red spark exploded by her face. It stung. She jerked back.

“I did not just sea a pseanic flare happen right in frond of me, did I?” she asked. Sollux’s moirayl sat up in alarm. She held up a hand - codciliation, not a threat.

“No, Your Grace,” Sollux choked out. “What kind of _idiot_ would let his powers slip a minute after you told him not to?”

“And after I told him to reelax!”

“And letting them touch you would really be inexcusabubble,” he offered, and his grin was all nerves. He seemed right on the verge of dropping the joke and begging her forgiveness. His Karkat was on his knees on his nest of pillows, probubbly preparing to do just that.

She kissed the edge of Sollux’s grin, and held his shoalders gently. She got a shaky laugh out of him.

“You’re not the first,” she said, even though it wasn’t her practice to ever bring it up. “The last time I had to do this ritual, I ended up choosing a troll with a non-detachable clawkind specibass. When she got - “ _to hold the bucket between her thighs and fill it up at last_ “- excited, she scratched me.”

“And then?” the moirayl asked, while Sollux kissed her collarbones, quick and methodical in a new kind of way.

“Then my moirayl came in to bandage me up, and I let her go back to her new bound-moirayl, who sent me a reely nice apoloachy card in her name. They’re still together!” Feferi still had the marks on her left shoalderblade, and she really liked them, too. She wondered if Sollux had noticed while undressing her.

He was kissing her chin, all uninvited, and then right below his ear. She checked - he wasn’t levitating, just standing up on his toes. And she’d bent down without noticing. She wondered if he’d try to climb her. She wondered if she’d allow it.

“Did anyone ever attack you, Your Grace?” Karkat asked. “I mean, while serving you in this way.”

“Well,” she said, “kind of. But that’s a state seacret, and anyway I’d rather not glub about it. Did - does Sollux usually spark like that?”

“We can’t really tell,” Karkat said. “He hasn’t kissed anyone since he was eight.”

“Twelve!” Sollux protested. She pecked him on the lips and got another smile.

“Don’t lie to your Empress, you were seven and a half,” Karkat countered. Was he a little giddy? She imagined he was bubbling with adrenaline, and had no outlet for it. Should she do something about that? She had her fronds full with Sollux (he filled them up so nicely). “That was when his matesprit died. She came back later, but then it was all platonic, and then she went on a spectral tour and Sollux just stayed celibate. Apart from one horribly lackluster office blackfling when we were twelve, but I _know_ that didn’t go farther than a slap.”

“What’s it like, being celibait?” she asked. With some confishence, Sollux sank down to the ground in frond of her.

“I’m fine with it, half the time,” he said. He put his hands on her belt, but didn’t move on from there.

“And the other half?”

“It feels like I’m carrying sparks under my skin, and there’s no-one to show them to.”

Feferi nodded. “You may finish undressing me now,” she directed, and rubbed the cheek he had stung. “And then yourshellf.”

The night after the last chunks of the Condesce’s body had been cleared away, the palace was overrun with Imperial scullptors and pain-ters. Her Imperial Graciousness stood model for them from sundown to sunrise, and any shyness she had ever felt about her body dissquidpated as she watched her likeness formed, over and over again, in marble and carefully chosen color.

Now, she stood before her two subjects, naked as a pearl, and she didn’t feel shellf-codscious, but there was an awareness there that she wasn’t used to, of the strength of her hands, the length of her legs, of every muscle and every sturdy bone. She no longer had time to practice with her trident every night, and even assassfins rarely challenged her physically. Still, her body kept all the strength she’d trained into it.

Sollux unbuttoned his trousers – what a dim color! – and sat awkwardly to his side to pull them off. His underwear followed, and she could see a blush flowing across his chest and neck. He forgot to take off his socks, and Feferi allowed it.

“Will you be able to codtrol your sparks?” she asked, as gently as she could. “Do you want Karkat to come here and help?”

“Karkat is more helpful from his pile,” Sollux said. “He’s more of a talker than a papper.”

“I’m proud of you, honey,” Karkat offered, and it was so rushed that Feferi giggled.

“There’s nothing to be nervous of,” she said, and made sure to reelax her arms, her knees. She wondered if being celibait meant he’d never done this before at all. She wondered, and then made an effort to stop wondering, about his first matesprit.

He kissed her thigh. She kept still. He ran exploratory fingers over the ridge in her hips. She studied his horns. He waited for permission, and she took his hand and placed it on her bulge.

The bone slid aside, and her three tendrils rolled out, still politely braided.

“It’s nofin you haven’t seen before, right?” Glub her life, she sounded nervous. “I mean, I don’t know if you’ve got an appreseation for the high arts.”

“Ehehe,” he said, soft. “I guess I’m developing one.”

“Some of my war-tists took liberties with the proporpoises - proportions.”

He trailed his hand down the braid, lightly brushing against it with his palm.

The tendrils unwrapped a little at the end, catching two of his thin fingers. This wouldn’t hurt him, she was shore. She hoped he wouldn’t jerk back.

“This would be worst time for sparks,” he said, and kissed her stomach, then, decisively, the base of her tendrils.

The braid loosened, and Feferi bit her lips to keep from moving. Sollux’s tongue found its way between the tendrils, right at the top. It was fintimate, and sloppy, and not enough, and she wanted to direct him to move down already. She waited.

Her tendrils unfurled and bumped against his chin, his throat. They weren’t long enough to wrap around his neck - of course not! - but she wondered if he minded the way they pressed and shifted against his windtunnel. She wondered if that was why he was slowing down.

“Why are you stopping? Don’t stop.”

“Your Grace,” Karkat said, even hoarser now. “Is he doing this right?”

“Yes!”

It seemed to be all the encouragement Sollux needed, because he chose a tendril and slid his tongue along it.

Even a land-dweller would know that the tips of her tendrils were the most sandsitive, so she expected him to heseatate there. But his lips - so dry - opened up right away, and he took her in his mouth. The other two tendrils lashed around, smacking his face, his neck. Feferi willed them to reelax - there wasn’t much she could do, but at least they’d slow down - and brushed the hair away from his eyes.

“You’re doing good, keeping calm,” she said, and glanced up at Karkat. He nodded, fixing his eyes near her chin. “You don't have to herring. We have until sunset.”

Another tendril poked at the edge of his mouth, and he pulled off enough to take it in.  
The tendrils twined and untwined on his warm tongue, and he kept them in check with the orcasional hard press of his lips. His teeth were small and sharp, and it felt good to stay aware of them. He would never lay a fang on her, she knew that, and nothing about him was a threat - but it was just nice. The slightest hint of red pain, unasked for, exciting. A hint of his own protective sting.

She would not choke him by accident, even if she stopped being so careful.

Her third tendril lashed around wildly, but Sollux seemed content to stop at two. Troutditionally, he should have taken all three into his mouth, sucking them into pliancy and then braiding them back up for her. She wondered if he’d ever seen seadweller porn. She was almost shore it was more expensive than the lower-hemostatus kind. Perhaps she could send him some of her favorites, a parting gift? It would be tasteless, but everything about their meeting was. Or maybe she’d just send some videos anemonymously -

He jerked back a little. Her tendril had poked him in the eye, or near it. She bit back an apology. Maybe she should have let him keep the shades!

She reached down, to help, but he caught her third tendril and got it to wrap around his hand. He found the tip with his thumb. His claws were very short, and his thumb was odd and wide and rough and _dry_ as he stroked her.

His other hand wrapped around the base of her tendrils, in a loose loop, travelling up and down. It was delicate, precise, and there was a promise of tugging.

“A system administraducer,” she heard herself saying. “I don’t know what that job entails exactly. But there must be a lot of fintense multitasking. And an affinity for cables.”

Sollux made a small noise and brushed his knuckles along her bone bulge.

“At home, it mostly means Sollux stays up too late every day,” Karkat said. He didn’t avoid her look this time. Had he reelaxed? “And yells at bees.”

She grinned, ducked her head. She wished she could see it. (But she’d never approach her surfveillance trolls for _that_. Probubbly.)

The hand wrapped around her base was steady, and firm enough to evoke a curl-up of tendrils even while they stayed extended. His palm was so warm, warmer than she had ever touched, maybe, and her nook - hidden away between the bases - felt warm and loose and ready - oh -

“A pail,” she said. It was so much earlier than she expected. She'd never even done this outside of a tub! “I need it, it’s in the bathroom - the ablution room, uh -”

“I’ll get it!” Karkat sprang up from her bad. “There’s no need to levitate anything, keep doing what you’re doing, I’ll get it.”

Sollux snorted, and she did as well, a beat later.

Sollux slid his thumb over her opening, kept it there. She gave her bassent, in some vague non-regal mumble, and pulled on his dry-grass hair as he dipped his finger inside of her. There was a crackle, maybe behind her, but she didn’t feel or see the spark this time, which meant she could ignore it. Then the bucket was there and her tendrils were wrapped around the rim, and Sollux was on the floor, leaning back, with both his hands raised.

The imperial pail didn’t have a handle, for reediculous ceraymonial reasons she’d forgotten. She balanced it anyway. Karkat had retreated, and she didn’t want to know whether he was watching too. She filled the pail with undiluted fuchsia, and placed it down, carefully.

She made her way to the bed, with tremors in her legs. The pile - the pile that Sollux had made - had been kicked aside when Karkat left it.

She sat on the edge, and observed them. Sollux was still on his knees, and he was watchful. There was no pink staining his lips, and that was proper, and disappointing. Karkat was curled up like a sea urchin, leaning against one of her walls.

“Well,” she said, “that was sex.”

“Sorry, Your Grace?” Sollux raised an eyebrow at her, and then quickly raised the other. Yeah, it _was_ more polite that way.

“According to imperial regullation, a codcupiscent act is classified as sex only after the troll highest on the hemospectrum has filled a bucket. So we did it!”

“Nice,” Sollux said.

She wanted something. For him to rest his head against her knee, or for him to demand his turn next. For him to ask who came up with that regullation, and why it existed in the first place.

“How can I serve you now?” he asked. Since when was she this glubbing findecisive?

“Just come here,” she said. “Both of you. Let’s glub like we’re all pale here.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Sollux said, and grinned, and she still didn’t know what she wanted.


	3. Chapter 3

She stretched out on her bed, pulled the golden sheets up to the waist. Later, she’d have to braid herself up, but for now, it was enough to have the tendrils covered. They were loose and sandsitive, bunched up between her thighs.

Sollux was careful not to lie on her hair. Karkat sat on the edge of the bed, on her other side. She had expected him to hide behind his moirayl - was he planning to take more finitiative now? She put a slow hand between his shoalderblades. It was the first time she touched him, and he didn’t sturtle away from her.

“Where are you going for your honeymoon?” She asked. It was not too pale a question. Courteous, courtly. She pressed her thighs together.

“Nowhere, Your Grace,” Karkat said. She started moving her hand up and down on his back. On the other side, Sollux bumped a knee against her hip – was it an acctrident? “We couldn’t really afford to travel anywhere, and it seemed pointless to rent a room just for - uh, anyway. We bought more pillows instead.”

“Oh?” She imagined Sollux, on gold pillows. On purple ones.

Karkat leaned against her hand, deliberate and terse. “I got him this ergonomic nerd pillow. It’s his wedding gift, and it’s a surprise.”

“Didn’t hear a thing, KK,” Sollux a-shored him.

Karkat was still fully dressed. His Sign was printed in white on his back. It was pretty, like a pair of dancing fish, and seemed very faintly familiar. She traced it with her claws, then put her fingers on his nape, dragged the neck of shirt down just a little, sliding two fingers under the fabric. She wasn’t shore if she meant it as a hint to disrobe. He didn’t take it as one. He didn’t pull away, though.

“Do you know what kind of gift Sollux got for you?” she asked.

“Well, our moirail rings, and he’ll pay this sweep’s Mirthful tithe for me.”

“Oh! Is that why -” she bit off the question, but Karkat finished it for her.

“Yes, it was one of the reasons we got married right now. The tax drones don’t like it when I use Sollux’s credit. Even though I’ve been doing it for sweeps, because I haven’t really kept a job since the tavern.” She squeezed his shoalder, but it probubbly wasn’t all that reashoring. She pulled her hand out of his shirt.

“I got you a mug too,” Sollux said. “And that piece of buggy code for you to work on.”

“I didn’t know you could code, Karkat!” Feferi was glad to steer away from the topic of money. This wasn’t a _reel_ f-eelings jam, after all.

“I absolutely cannot code, Your Grace,” Karkat said. “Sollux just thinks it’s hilarious when I try. So I try.”

“Karkat is a very caring moirail,” Sollux put in. “He keeps track of all my secret hopes and dreams.”

“Shush,” Karkat told him, oddly sharp. Sollux exhaled, a warm gust on her neck.

“And the mug?”

“It’s a disaster, Your Grace,” Karkat said, and even gesti-cull-ated to emphasize his disgust. “It’s printed with two cartoon coffee grubs, holding hands, with the caption I LIKE YOU LIKE I LIKE MY COFFEE - PALE AND SWEET.”

“Aw,” Feferi said.

“The worst part is that the coffee grubs have horns like ours, so that means he went out of his way to find and custom-order that piece of sh- tepid kitsch.”

“Aww!”

“I’m a very caring moirail too,” Sollux said, and oh, he was playing with her hair. Just the endings, nowhere near her scalp, but - was he aware he was doing it? He had to be.

“Show me the rings,” she requested, looking away from Sollux again.

Karkat decaptchalogued both rings neatly into her palm. Apart from their Sign engravings, the rings were unadorned, and made of some alloy she could have easily bent.

Sollux’s ring was too small for her finger, but the other one - the one that bore Sollux’s Sign - slipped on comfortbubbly, up to her knuckle. She finspected it, then lay her hand on her chest.

“They’re not exactly ostunatatious,” Sollux said, making her smile.

“Did you want them to be?”

“Well, Karkat likes that they’re discreet. _I_ wanted to design rings that project our Signs to the ceiling, with holographic dancing diamonds below.” Karkat groaned. “And then they rotate.”

“The rings?” she asked.

“The projections.”

“Well, Karpkat’s Sign is perfect for it!” Karkat didn’t groan at her, but he did sniff.

Sollux rolled closer, not over her, but near enough to whisper, “I’ve installed that exact lightshow in our respite block.”

She laughed, and he pulled closer.

“He hates it when I spend money on him,” Sollux went on. It was probubbly too quiet for Karkat to hear. She hoped it was. “But if it’s something really stupid, he hates that too, so the two rages cancel each other out.”

“And the resalt is that he likes it?”

“Well, when he sees the lightshow, he’s going to complain for a week, but he won’t make me uninstall it.”

Her hands were buried into his hair, her shoalders were loose and her tendrils reelaxed, and she didn’t think about it when she asked, “Do you wish you were home right now?”

She regretted it immediately. There was no way for Sollux to answer that, except to lie to her face, and even in this sham of a pile, the dishonesty would hurt.

“Yes,” he said, and she inhaled. “Yeah, Your Grace, but that’s just because I’m terrified. Otherwise, I’m having a great time.”

“Terrified of what?”

“Of messing this up. Or Karkat messing it up.”

She touched his chin. Not a pap, but near it.

“I know Karkat doesn’t want to pail me,” she said. “I’m not offinded.”

“He, hah, we weren’t really subtle about it,” Sollux said. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. I won’t insist.”

That set off sparks between his horns. She closed her eyes, practically didn’t notice anything at all. ( _It’s almost a lightshow_ , she thought.)

“Both of you have done your duty to me,” she said, with closed eyes. He was terrified. She could do somefin about it. “So I won’t ask for anyfin more, unless you want to give it.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Sollux said. He was hoarse and still crackling.

“Thank you,” Karkat echoed. She couldn’t reed the tuna his voice.

“You can even - you may go home early. Just fill the bucket up - you can use the, the ablution block. I’ll make shore you get home safely.”

“Fill it up?”

“Yes.”

“Both of us?”

“ _Yes_ , Karkat.” Oh, that came out as a snap, oh no. She was an Empress, not a snapper fish. “Just take the glub - take the pail, come inside it, I won’t watch, I prawnmise. Then Sho - Sollux will do the same, and we’ve all have done our duty, and the Empire will continue on its road to prospearity without having to flounder.”

Sollux’s hand hovered right above her cheek. She could feel the heat in his ridiculous sharp fingers. To pap her would be the greatest presumption, especially now.

She lifted her head up, just a little, and he rested his whole palm on her cheek.

She breathed, she followed his breathing - so much quicker than her own, but soothing anyway.

“Your Grace,” he said, “what happens if only one of us fills the pail?”

“What happens?” She was irritated and she was paseafied, and she didn’t know which of those she wanted to be. “I have an awkward codversation with the royal geneticist. If Karkat ever goes back to his tavern, he can tell those old sailors that he diso-bayed his Empress and lived. Nofin happens. But I want an explanation. Why is Karkat scared of buckets?”

“He just can’t,” Sollux said, and his voice was strained. Karkat snapped his name. Feferi wanted to know why, and why Karkat couldn’t keep a job, and why the terror hadn’t lifted from them yet, even after she’d let them have everyfin they wanted.

She thought of Karkat’s shirt, and the colorless Sign on his back.

She was the fastest one here - speed had always been her key to surfival. She pushed Sollux away and grabbed at Karkat. She caught his palm and sank her nails into it.

His blood was red, and the sparks around it didn’t come as a surprise.

“Stop, you idiot,” Karkat snarled, and that wasn’t directed at her. The pseaonics were. She felt the static in her hair, in her teeth. It was a challenge, she knew all about challenges.

“Seariously,” she said, “stop.”

Sollux levitated himself over the bed, and he looked down at her, his face still. One of his horns clinked lightly against the shad-elier. He looked eelongated, bathed in his own light, with his elbows thrust out and his arms raised above his head. He had spread his legs, careless of displaying his bulge. His pseaonic waves made his hair flutter, like a drowning troll’s.

“You’re a blight on the face of this world, Sollux,” Karkat said, coaxing, sweet, “and you just had a really nasty shock. Come down, will you, before you do something even stupider.”

“Shoosh, KK,” he said. “I’ve got this.”

“Your Graciousness,” Karkat went on, in the same tone. He kept his gaze down, avoided looking at her body. “He just lost control. I tricked him into marrying me, and he’s reeling with -”

“Shoosh,” she said, steady. “No more lying right now.”

Her heels tingled and Sollux levitated her, slowly, off the bed. Was he going to throw her against a wall? Her trident was ready, it always was. Sollux’s chin was raised, again, and she wondered if he knew how easy it would be to aim for his throat.

She glided through the air, above the messy sheets. He was gentle when he set her down by the bathroom door.

“That was a fairly eelegant threat,” she said, “one of the better ones I’ve received.” Not the best, of course.

“Thank you,” he said, “it’s my first time.”

And she laughed, because her skin was warm with his power, and sparks ran down her legs like rivulets. She reelly should have braided hershellf up after she pailed him.

“Do you want to duel me, Shoallux?” she asked.

“Guess it looks like the best option. Can’t be that hard, right, if highbloods keep doing it?”

“Yeah, it’s a seabreeze,” she said. “But I’m not shore it’s your best option.”

“Hah,” said Karkat. He was frozen in place - was Sollux doing it to him too? “Hah,” he said again. “Listen to your Empress, bro. Out of all the idiotic ways for this night to end, you had to go with fucking _treason_ , and I don’t even know what the fuck to do with you now. Do you need to be pacified? The little yellowblood got himself worked up into a high rage, is that what we’re doing here? I don’t want this, I don’t want to go down papping you, it’s not romantic, you asshole, you could have gotten out of this alive.”

The sparks running down Feferi’s legs quieted, and she no longer felt like laughing. It wouldn’t have been a reel duel anyway. He needed other options, and she would get them for him.

Sollux’s hold on her was wavering, and he didn’t stop her from retreating to the bathroom. She locked the door, then quickly threw the key in the sink. Sollux probably wasn’t strong enough to force the door open, at least not on the first try.

“Your Grace? Are you hurt?” Karkat’s voice was almost drowned out by the crackle of sparks.

“I’m just washing my hands,” she said. She needed a moment to think.

“It’s not contagious,” she heard, and then she ran the tap, drowning out anything else Karkat might have said.

Karkat’s blood had only stained her fingertips. She washed off the red, and thought of the times her arms were drenched to the elbow in fuchsia.

She found a basin, lewdly deep, and filled it with water, warmer than comfortbubble. It took her longer to find a towel that was dark enough. She almost missed the click of the door unlocking. She hadn’t thought mind powers could be precise enough to work a lock. And she’d thought that maybe, Sollux and Karkat would try to leave.

Sollux had taken the time to get dressed. His sleeves were uneven, and he’d got his shades back from Karkat and hung them from the collar of his shirt. He stood on the ground, peeking through the crack of the door.

She should have covered hershellf up. It was too late now: it would come across as too definsive.

“There’s a stain remover on the shellf,” she said, and handed him the towel. She kept her movements slow. “Karkat should get cleaned up.”

“Why?”

“It’s a tiny cut but we stained the carp-et. There’s a small possurfbility my seacurity isn’t completely useless and they’ll work out somefin’s happening. It’s easier if they don’t sea his blood.”

“What’s easier? Is he going on trial? Will you livestream our execution?”

“No. I won’t hurt you,” she said. He didn’t react at all, just floated the basin away. Feferi sat on the edge of the tub - what would Sollux call it? An ablution… tank? - and turned the taps. “Tell him I’m sorry I scratched him. I just wanted codfirmation.”

He left the door ajar, and he was quick to return. He slipped in, then slumped, closing the door with his back. It locked with a click and a shower of sparks. Feferi didn’t reach for the key - it wouldn’t take her any time at all to break it down, if she had to.

“Don’t you need to help your moirayl wash up?” she asked. Did that sound mocking? She didn’t mean it to.

“He’s fine,” Sollux said. “He’s just fine, but, if you’re going to drown us, I don’t think that’s deep enough. And Karkat can swim.” His voice was finally cracking, like when they first spoke, but his face was still calm. He’d been so expressive, before.

“I won’t hurt you, either of you,” she told him, again. “Do your pseaonics work on water?”

He opened his fingers, and the water beside her sloshed around heavily, never rising above the edge of the tub, never taking solid shape.

“Not really,” he said. She wondered if he was lying.

“I’m just going to take a bath,” she said. “I have to think. You can go be with Karkat, or you can stay here, and we can glub about things.”

“A bath. Right.”

She stood in the cold water, let him look at her. She was glad he hadn’t put on the shades.

The water was clean and felt just like home, even if she couldn’t spread her arms out. She sank below, just for a moment, and breathed.

When she emerged, he was kneeling by her tub. She sturtled, slightly - had she been down for long?

“I know,” he said, “that you - that the law - doesn’t kill mutants on sight anymore. Not even blood-mutants, not for sweeps now.”

She nodded, let the water lap at her gills.

“But Karkat never registered,” he went on. “And by the time you made that law, he was already pretending to be rust. Lying about blood color is still punishable by death. Punfishable.”

“It is,” she said, “it’s got to be.” Whether she could change that in the future wasn’t reelevant.

“So you know he endangered trollkind, just by living his life I guess, and then he touched your bucket, which has to be a special kind of insult to evolution. And then I endangered you. _Why_ won’t you hurt us?”

“It doesn’t matter what you did. I’ve earned the right to krill or spare exactly who I want to. I won’t hurt you two, and I won’t let you be hurt.” She had phrased it in her head in advance.

“Okay,” he said, quietly.

“I just have to decide what to do with you,” she finished, and he finally flashed a fang at her. His fingers were trembling.

“Well, shit, Your Grace. Anything you want.”


	4. Chapter 4

What did Feferi want? To stay on the bottom of her tub, and to have made her decisions already.

“Karkat must be worrying,” she said, a reminder to hershellf. “Tell him he’s safe, and he’ll be free to go soon. He’s under my protection. If he ever gets discovered, I’ll grant him clamnesty. ”

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

“And get the pail. You still have to fill it up for me.”

Sollux bowed his head and hurried out. He returned quickly, holding the ceraymonial bucket with care. No levitation. He was trying to be good for her, again. 

He set the pail down on the floor - it sloshed a little, why couldn’t it have glubbing handles? - and he knelt down roughly. At least there was a mat there. He didn’t look at her.

“Karkat is finnocent,” she said. She’d rehearsed this, too. “But what you did was fintentional, and - he’s right - it was treason. What happens if it gets out that you challenged the empress, and walked away with no codsequence?”

“Your Grace,” he said. He wasn’t panicking yet, but his hands were too still. “I’d never tell.”

“Probubbly not,” she agreed. “But the only way I could be shore - reelly shore - is to keep you.”

“Keep me where?”

“Well. In my respite block, for the most part.” She chose the word deliberately, to avoid any posseability of a misunderstanding.

He did look at her, now. He wasn’t shocked, she thought, or not only that. He nodded, then nodded more vigorously.

“Yeah. Yes, Your Grace. I’d be honored. I’d - I mean, I can learn how to be better at protocoral. And at everything.”

“You’re already good at the most cru-shell part,” she said, and got a grin out of him. Reel or not, she wasn’t shore.

“I can stop using psionics,” he added, but it came out a little doubtful.

“You wouldn’t have to,” she said, quickly, “not in private.” He could show her everything else he could do. She could make her skin sing.

“I can do it.” His chin was raised now, and shoalders lowered. She didn’t doubt it.

“You wouldn’t live with Karkat anemone-more,” she said. She’d practiced this part too.

“I could still pester him. I mean, could I?”

“Of course. And visit.”

“Yeah. Thank you, Your Grace.”

“So bass-ically,” she gave hershellf a moment, finspected the taps, the tiles, the veins in the marble. “You’d be fine, you’d just have to give up your whole life, and do everyfin I ask of you, and you wouldn’t even get a quadrant from me in return, because I’m red for you, Shoallux, but I can’t make you my matesprit right now.”

“What.” Oh, now he was shocked.

“There would be a few riots.” She glanced at him at last. “And a lot sneers, and everyfin I want to do would become even slower. The Condesce never had quadrants. I keep my moirayl quiet and he’s a seadweller anyway, but - pailing codplicates things.”

“No kidding,” he said, then, “yes, Your Grace. I mean, I didn’t think it was an option? Or that you - I mean, yeah, I understand. No quadrants. It would look bad. Absolutely.”

“Would you accept this?” Would she leave him a choice in the matter?

“Well, _yes_ , Your Grace. Of course. I challenged you, so now I’m yours. It’s fair. It makes sense. I’m really grateful.” 

“It makes sense in a shrimperial - an imperial way,” she agreed. “Codquering anyone who has the gills to attack the empire. To make shore you won’t do it again. And to make shore your strength gets added to mine.”

He nodded, and his cheeks flushed faintly yellow. She had no idea what he was thinking at all.

“The other option,” she said, and lay back down, letting the water cover her ears, “is the one where I don’t destroy your life for my codvenience. I let you go home, and forget about the pseaonic attack, because I _do_ know you’ll never glub about it to anyone.”

“I won’t,” he said, heseatant. “Why are there two options?”

“This one’s the romantic one.”

If he said something, she didn’t hear, sinking down.

She breathed, and pressed her elbows against the walls of the tub, and breathed some more. When she emerged, she felt cleaner.

“What do you think?” she asked.

“I think that both options are more generous than I deserve, Your Grace.” Oh, he practiced his speeches too. “I’ll be grateful, whichever you choose.” 

He was de-fin-itely not going to make the choice for her. It didn’t matter. She knew which he preeferred.

“You should go home,” she said, and he hissed. His smile was as bright as pearls. “You need to make shore Karkat gets his gift.”

* * *

Karkat felt compelled to stay on his knees and keep scrubbing the stain, like Lady Macbet after her clover collapsed - but the carpet was too expensive to be subjected to that. He wondered how often it had seen blood. Wasn’t it suspicious, that the Grace herself had a stain remover at hand like that? No, it was probably highblood custom to keep one in every ablution block. It wasn’t like he’d had the chance to look around in there - he’d just taken the bucket and run out. What was Sollux doing in there? Was he cold? Was she pailing him right now?

Karkat stopped biting his lip. He didn’t want to stain anything else.

He sat on the floor, near the wet circle, in something resembling a casual pose. He didn’t even jump when the Grace came in through the door, alone.

“Sollux is fine,” she said, even though he was sure he wasn’t showing any sign of being worried. He heard an “I’m fine, KK!” before he closed the door.

Karkat knelt up. There was nothing to be gained by faking casualness, what had he been thinking?

She sat on her respite platform, pulling her white ablution robe closed at the neck.

“You’re both going home soon,” she said, and Karkat’s bloodpusher sped up. Maybe he needed to try and fake a steady heartbeat. “Sollux just needs to fill up the pail for me, so I don’t have to repeat this ritual for a whale. While. Apparently, newlywed passion is the seacret to making future Heiresses.”

“Of course, yes.” He breathed deeply. He’d read that somewhere.

Would she just keep killing her descendants when they started popping up? Not his business.

His business was to avoid throwing up on the nice carpet, or the nice empress, or even his own nice wedding clothes.

“Karpkat? I’m sorry about your wedding night.”

“Well, it was an -” he choked on it.

“An honor? An honorterror,” she offered.

“Yes, Your Grace.” Could he just thank her for giving him back his moirail? Would that make it more awkward? Could anything possibly make it more awkward?

“So about jobs,” she said. Right, obviously something could. “You worked in a tavern before?”

“And some other places.”

“Ever worked in an office?”

“In a way.” He grimaced an apology - he was careful never to implicate anyone who’d employed him, but, well, she wouldn’t give a fuck. “It was pretty office-like, for a betting joint. They closed up sweeps ago.” And left the planet, too, so it would be safe, bringing it up.

“Oh!” She nodded. “Good, good. My moirayl is finvolved with - that is, he’s a lot more swimpathetic towards mutants than most trolls are. I can tell him to hire you without doing a blood test. You don’t have to say yes – it’s just a surfggestion. I’ll ask him to send you an offer as soon as his shuttle lands.”

“What does he do, Your Grace?”

“He works on artifishal intelligences, but I don’t think you’d have to code, just, you know, do anyfin he needs. I mean, not in any bad way. He has problems with keeping bassistants.”

Karkat nodded, and mumbled his thanks. He’d be making coffee, then, for a particularly important seadweller, who was, by the sound of it, even more difficult to work with than usual. It was an okay option.

The Grace seemed to have run out of conversation starters. Sharp, uncomfortable silence settled on the respite block.

Her toe claws were really well-polished. He wondered if her moirail did them for her.

Sollux opened the door before the situation became critical enough to force Karkat to speak. He looked exhausted, and okay. No injuries or even bruises. He’d left the bucket behind him.

“Time for you to go home!” The Grace announced. Her smile seemed to have too many teeth, but maybe Karkat needed to rein the paranoia in a little. They were fine. They were going home.

“I’ve still got to levitate you across the threshold, KK,” Sollux said. His grin was complicated, but he relaxed against Karkat’s gentle shove.

“Oh!” said the Grace. “One more thing.” She reached for Karkat’s hand. Was it going to be another scratch, for good luck?

She took his moirail ring off her little finger. He’d given that up, even before the freakout happened. She slid it on his finger, made sure the Sign on it was centered.

It looked a little more imposing on his hand than on hers. She curled her fingers around his fist, and squeezed. He caught her wrist and squeezed back. He was getting some ideas here, and soon he would get confirmations of his own.

The Grace called for her staff, and silence sank on all three of them.

* * *

Feferi was perfectly clamicable throughout the next night and morning. She never snapped at her geneticist. She paid attention at meetings and ignored the news streams. She did snap at a surfcretary, but then she gave her the night off as an apoloachy.

She sent Dirk exactly 137 messages. It reelly wasn’t his fault he was off-planet, but he needed to learn about the gravity of her pale emergency as soon as he came back in messaging distance.

She needed to glub about it, and maybe to cry. She needed a wider space to swim.

It didn’t occur to her to wonder who was Pestering her, when she was woken by a soft ping on the second evening. No-one else had her handle, not anemone-more. But the text on her screen wasn’t in either of Dirk’s colors.

TA: ii’m 2orry, your grace 

She put the phone on her lap, to avoid gripping it too hard.

TA: but iit turn2 out your 2ecurity really ii2 completely u2ele22  
TA: at lea2t when iit come2 to onliine priiva2ea  
TA: any iidiiot could ju2t hack iin to your per2onal deviice2  
TA: and glub at you uniinviited  
TA: do you want me to upgrade your 2y2tem? 

A bubble of joy rose to her throat, and she laughed out loud. She tapped out her response with careful claw-tips.


End file.
